Soul Diver
by Yeaomi
Summary: How does Anderson view the people around him? From the beginning till the end. just read it.AndersonXAlucard Some Seras, some maxwell...


Soul Diver By Yeaomi 

To say that Anderson was never one who liked to dwell on past battles would be a flat out lie. Once a battle was finished, he could spend days going over each and every detail. If it was a particularly good battle, it would consume his every thought. It wasn't that he was an analytical man or a man obsessed with violence, he was just fascinated by his enemies. Especially when it came to heathens. What drove them? What made them want to fight so badly? If God wasn't on their side, which he was certain he wasn't, who or what drove them on? He always frowned when he got to this part and would say an extra prayer at night.

Lately, going over his battles had left him feeling as if he was missing something. Lacking the drive to fight at all. His enemies were all nothing more than heathens; it was hardly an act of bringing about divine punishment anymore. He'd stomp around muttering bible verses and ancient prayers causing Yumi and Heinkel to blush and scold him lightly and Maxwell to lecture and rant at him about seemingly nothing at all.

But not this time. This time, it had been weeks since his last battle and he was still going over it. Every waking hour, every dream, every thought; he was a man obsessed. This time he wasn't just up against a heathen or a freak. He was up against a true Monster.

He hadn't won this battle, but he hadn't lost it either. What got to him the most was the fact that he had seen what the Monster was fighting for. And not just seen it, but had been told off by it too…

Alucard would be a formidable foe that he would enjoy carving up time and time again. He would have dreams of cutting off his head, watching it grow back then slicing it off again. He'd carve him up like a jig-saw-puzzle, smash his insolent grin, shred his horrible coat and feed him his own hat. He'd give his ascot to Maxwell as a birthday present. Just thinking of all that he would do would often send Anderson into a fit of laughter.

The Monster wasn't the only thing that intrigued Anderson. Alucard's little Draculina left him feeling just short of baffled. There was something about her that he just couldn't understand. The way she called out to her master with total trust and respect. The look in her eyes when her master had been beheaded. The way that she'd run from him, clutching the fiend's head in a comical fashion. It would elicit a chuckle from him each time he thought of it.

But what really baffled him about her, was the way that she fought. She didn't fight like a heathen that was full of rage and arrogance. She didn't spit taunts and blasphemous things at him. She didn't even live in the moment of the battle. It was like she was fighting for a whole other reason. Something that she believed to truly be true and just. Something only she could see and that he wanted to understand.

It was a feeling from a time he couldn't really remember. From before he became a true soldier of god. The look in her eyes and on her face. It was a distant painful yet wonderful feeling. Something that bothered him deeply if he let himself think on it too long.

After their second encounter in the museum, it was nearly driving him crazy. How just the sight of Alucard had driven him over the edge, the taste of a good battle on his lips. He'd completely forgotten where he was and his purpose for even being there. Ignoring everything Maxwell shouted at him. But then _she _had stepped in. It was so graceful yet loud at the same time. Her quick thinking and well planned attack had left him utterly defenseless and useless… It was enough to bring him to shame. Not only had she disarmed one of the best soldier of God the church had ever known, she'd also disarmed one of the best warriors that any monster had ever known.

It was with a calm daze that they had both snapped to their senses and obeyed their masters, wandering off in a baffled stupor. Anderson sure that he'd get an earful from Maxwell later.

It wasn't till after he awoke from yet another dream of something he couldn't quite grasp that he decided that he needed to do research on his new enemies. When he wasn't looking after the children or in church doing his chores, he'd find himself in his room reading everything he could get his hands on about the monsters he now faced.

There wasn't much that he could dig up on Alucard that helped him. He'd throw the Monster's files across the room in a fit of frustration and immediately turn back to the Draculina and the Hellsing woman. What troubled him the most were the younger pictures he managed to dig up on Seras. Her looks. Her face. Her eyes. He'd seen them all many times before. He'd even once seen them in Maxwell's defiant glare.

Perhaps he was just a tired man that had seen one too many innocent children broken and destroyed from the inside out. One too many pure souls tainted by an endless battle with something that he couldn't understand.

It was with this thought that Anderson sat back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He slowly closed the files and set them aside. It was well into the early hours of the morning and he felt tired for the first time in years. He slowly got up and walked down the hall to Maxwell's room.

Just standing outside of the door, he could imagine Maxwell splayed out in a tangle of sheets. His hair would be a tangled mess and his night clothes twisted. The image of a young Maxwell snuggled up in bed, clutching a tired old teddy bear made him smile. He found himself wondering where Seras was sleeping. Did she sleep the same way? Was Alucard standing outside of wherever she was, imagining her snuggled up to what ever a vampire would snuggle up to?

With a scowl he realized that perhaps he was letting himself get too obsessed. He needed to put it all behind him and just relax. Get back to his chores and stop entertaining such ridiculous and surely blasphemous ideas. He turned back to his room and stuffed the files into a drawer. Starting tomorrow, he'd be free of it and just go about his normal life. Maybe God himself would smite them all and let his soldier rest for a change.

He laughed at such a thought and headed back to bed. The next morning he awoke from a peaceful sleep and headed cheerfully down to breakfast. The moment he sat down at the table, however, he knew that somewhere… Somehow… In Someway…. Alucard was laughing at him.

"In the name o' the father, son, an' the holy ghost, Amen." He clutched his bayonets in one hand and his bible in the other as he stared out of the window of the airplane. He felt like a messenger boy. A delivery boy. An escort for a devil! For crying out loud, he was a PRIEST!

Gritting his teeth he chewed on a few more bible verses and prayers, slowly going over his orders over and over again in his mind as he got off the plane and walked up the path.

"….Amen…. Just a messenger of God… Messenger of God…" He looked up at the house. Some how along the way the term, "messenger of God" had changed into "I'll be rid o' all o' yeh!"

Bursting in the door, he didn't even take notice of the strange and rather alarmed looking Frenchman in the corner or anything else for that matter. One look at Alucard and he just had to smash his face in.

It wasn't till his glasses had been thoroughly smashed that he even remembered he was there on a mission. Even then it wasn't till Seras burst into the room supporting a Harkonnen that he was able to stop fighting and complete his mission.

With a scowl on his face, along with his now mangled glasses, and a hand on a blade he sent them off. It wasn't till they had left that he realized it was going to be a long ride home…how he was going to get home now that his one and ONLY plane was gone.

In fact, it was while he was looking for his ride home that he'd gotten the call from what could have easily been considered a hysterical Maxwell practically shouting, "THEY IGNORED ME! AND THEY CALLED OUR GOD INSANE!"

Several minutes later of him comforting the distraught young man and being comforted himself; he had his orders to return home.

It was time for war.

It was on the flight home that he really had time to think about what was happening and what was sure to come. He couldn't say that he wasn't excited about the upcoming battles. He was worried though. He'd seen Maxwell slowly become obsessed with the Millennium.

Enrico Maxwell had always been a strong stubborn man. Even as a child, he refused to think of Anderson as an authority figure. Instead, Anderson often found himself being ordered and bossed around by the tiny little irate child. He wondered just what Maxwell would do with his first full-out war.

There was a small voice lost somewhere in the back of his mind that was worrying over what something like this could do to the already tormented man. It was that same voice that wondered about the young Draculina. He sighed heavily and forced his thoughts towards something that would give his mind more ease.

Sadly, visions of several little decapitated Alucard heads popped up and danced around. It was times like these that he wished that he were a drinking man.

He grabbed one of those all too small in-flight pillows and tried to make himself comfortable in the too small chair. Practically breaking the chair while leaning it back and looking for leg room, he sighed and fell into a restless sleep.

There was a voice floating around in the darkness. Faint yet deep and powerful. It felt like the voice of God trying to tell him something that he had been waiting to hear for longer than he cared to admit.

Images floated in and out of the darkness. Pictures like the ones found in his books. Ones filled with demons and angels at war, bodies strewn about in all means of agony as the light of damnation shown down on them. Faces turned up towards the heavens with a cry of God falling from their lips. Holy beings void of all blood stains casting the sinners down into the fiery pits of hell.

Hell rose up, the levels overflowing and casting out a soul that could not be contained. A soul that could never be caged. The monster rose up above the sinners, eyes burning. Rose up into the heavenly sky past the angels and holy warriors.

Everything blacked out. All he could see were those two horrible eyes. Then the voice came again. To save him? To lead him away from this monster? Would God take pity on his worn down soldier? Would he finally lead him away from the devil's battle and into his arms?

"Someday, in hell... My beloved enemy."

It was with a bitter pride that he looked upon the young Draculina. He did not want to call her a monster. To think of her as a fiend. Her smile was too sweet… Too bitter… She was no longer a lost child. She had sinned and taken the blood of man. Her choice or not to defy God, he didn't know or care. She was magnificent.

He felt strange, praising her. Like a father giving his daughter away. She smiled at him with a gentleness and strength that hurt his heart.

She was Alucard's young charge. Up in the sky, drunk with power, was his. She was Alucard's pride now. She was the monster's remaining humanity and she was beautiful in the darkness. It was time for him to take care of his own charge. His own humanity.

Alucard had better take damn good care of her. At least while he was still around.

Maxwell lay broken and scared. Foolish… He was foolish. "The biggest, most hopeless fool I've ever laid eyes upon."

He had failed this young man. He had never looked down upon this child. Now, it was too late to try and save this child. He should never have allowed him to reach this level of insanity.

It was time to send the soldiers of God home. They were close enough to hell. To limbo. Limbo should have only two souls. His, and the monster.

The Monster.

Looking up through the fires of hell, he could see the monster. He was already this far. Perhaps if he could do this one last act, God would look his way, and let his soldiers rest.

"Let us meet in Limbo, Enrico." It was all the apology he could muster up. Perhaps it was all that was needed.

In the back of his mind, he could hear Alucard's pleas. His begging. But it was too late. His mind was still with the lost child dead and alone. With the Draculina and her fading humanity. Only when it was too late, did he realize he had failed them all.

Alucard was crying. That single thought distressed him more than he cared to admit. Those dark tears were a crime against all that he knew. Monsters can't cry. They become monsters so that they never have to cry again.

Yet there he was, crying. Anderson had failed everything; but he did not want to see this monster cry. That arrogant smile was all he wanted to see now. Even as he told him so, he realized that he had failed.

Only a human can kill this monster. Only one human was supposed to kill this monster. Alucard had been counting on him. Anderson was the one that was meant to free his heart, and now… He had failed.

"How much longer must you continue this miserable existence?" because I have failed you?

He wondered if Alucard would again have to wait for his past to return before he could rest. For a moment, he was afraid that he had ruined that chance. Would this monster now forever be waiting for the future to arrive?

His fears disappeared as Alucard smiled.

"Someday, in hell…"

That was all he wanted to hear… All he could hear. Perhaps this monster could still be freed from his own torment.

A sunset began to shine clearly in his mind. It was almost tangible. There was nothing he could do now. For a moment, remorse filled him.

The sound of children came through, sweet and soft.

No… There was one last thing for him to do. He had to make sure… They were counting on him. He had to be sure…

"Everyone… Cannot cry… Before bed… Remember your prayers."

"Amen."

-------------------------------------------------

Title from the song, "Soul Diver" By Seabound

I own nothing. Just an idea and a fic.


End file.
